


That One Time Nathaniel Decided Not To Accept Fate

by RedHeadFireBred



Series: That One Time Neil Ended Up In a Fairy Tale [4]
Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Adventure, Aftermath of Torture, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cliffhangers, Curse Breaking, Curses, Death, Elf Jean Moreau, Elves, Fairy Tale Curses, Fairy Tale Elements, Fantasy, Fights, Half-Elf Kevin Day, Half-Elves, Horseback Riding, Horses, I'm Sorry, Lebedínoye Ózero | Swan Lake References, M/M, Magic, Magical Artifacts, Neil Josten Is an Idiot, Neil Josten as Nathaniel Wesninski, Neil kills more people and doesn't give a shit, Neil's horse is really sweet, Not Beta Read, Oblivious Neil Josten, POV Neil Josten, Potions, Prince Andrew Minyard, Princes & Princesses, Protective Neil Josten, Protectiveness, Royalty, Sassy Neil Josten, Soft Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Sorcerer Neil Josten, Sorry Not Sorry, Spells & Enchantments, Swan Andrew Minyard, Swearing, Swords, Swords & Sorcery, The Baltimore Scene, Torture, Treason, True Love, Witch Neil Josten, Witchcraft, Witches, andrew is the swan princess, just a little bit tho, literally about to die and this boy decides to insult the people trying to kill him, neverending stupidity my favorite, no beta we die like men, so if that isn't your thing, yeah sorry folks it's time, yup he still is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-14 20:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28800963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedHeadFireBred/pseuds/RedHeadFireBred
Summary: Riding alone through the E'Allen Kingdom to warn King Ichirou of his brother's planned coup, Neil is quickly reminded that nothing in his life is ever easy. When his life is threatened, he realizes he needs to do something he'd promised his mother he wouldn't do: use his magic.~*~Or, Andrew and Neil are separated, Nathaniel remembers why he was wary of his magic in the past and Ichirou is surprisingly reasonable.NOTE: There are three parts before this I recommend reading to understand what's going on!
Relationships: Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Series: That One Time Neil Ended Up In a Fairy Tale [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2092800
Comments: 14
Kudos: 194





	That One Time Nathaniel Decided Not To Accept Fate

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry but there is no Swandrew appearance in this fic! He will be back in the next one. This fic is also a bit heavier than the other ones, so I apologize for that. I added some warnings for the torture scene even if I kept it as light as I could, but I thought some people might appreciate the warning. Remember the Baltimore scene from the last book? 
> 
> Yeah.
> 
> Happy reading, my darlings!

The stars from E’Allen seemed different somehow. Neil knew he was in a different place so the ones he was used to seeing at night at his cottage in the Enchanted Woods wouldn’t be here, but it was also more than that. It was almost like there were fewer stars in the sky, fewer things he could admire. The sky and environment felt darker, like the magic around was poisoned. And Neil should know that - he felt it when he reached out to the nature, his magic unsure if it should accept it or not after being surrounded by the magic of the Enchanted Forest.

It wasn’t just the environment that got darker. Neil felt his anxiety crawl the longer he traveled and the longer he stayed still. He wondered if it would’ve been different with Kevin and Andrew with him, but he felt that wouldn’t have been the case. Panic hadn’t set in yet but it would eventually, the closer he got to Baltimore Estate. Mary Hatford had to be screaming at him from whatever afterlife she’d landed in, cursing him for leaving the Enchanted Forest in the first place and for getting so close to the very place they’d run from.

There would be no sleep tonight, that was for sure.

If he had his way Neil wouldn’t have stopped at all until they reached Evermore, but his horse needed rest. He hadn’t bothered with setting up the tent or even making a fire, instead relying on a small spell to keep himself warm for the night, not wanting to risk getting spotted by any stray Ravens, or worse. His father may be lost, but that didn’t mean his followers were, and if they found Neil…well, it wouldn’t end well.

He tried to distract himself from his thoughts by taking a look at the books Nicky had given him. One of them was a mystery he started to read to Andrew two nights ago, and another was a book overviewing different kinds of magic. There were two more he decided he wasn’t interested in, and with his mind not being able to focus on anything he decided to put the books away, laying back down and staring up at the sky again. He felt jittery and sick and honestly? Worried.

He couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if Kevin didn’t get Andrew to the lake in time. How much time did Andrew even have left before the curse killed him? Neil wished he’d stuck around for longer to figure that out, if only so that it didn’t freak him out now. Unfortunately, there was no going back. All he could do was continue forward and try to get the message in before he died.

When morning finally came, he set out immediately. Neil knew that the main road would take him to Evermore, but to do that he’d have to get close to Baltimore Estate. Evermore was built on a large island in the middle of a peninsula that held the rest of the capital city, accessible only by boat or the three bridges that connected the island to the rest of the mainland. Neil had few options to get to the castle, and the best was by following that main road.

While he didn’t let his guard down, Neil did feel his anxiety calm just slightly as he rode further away from Baltimore Estate. There was one more village to go through before he could finally finish his travels to Evermore, and it only just hit Neil that he had no idea how to successfully request an audience with Ichirou. He could use Nathaniel Wesninski, he supposed, but it was more likely the king would hear that name and just kill Neil instead of listening to him.

 _I didn’t think this through,_ Neil thought to himself. He brought Esprit to a walk as they arrived at the village, leading her towards the community stables so he could let her rest and drink some water before they continued moving. “I shouldn’t have gone alone,” he mumbled to himself.

If he hadn’t gone alone then maybe Kevin would be able to get them just enough time to talk through what was going on with Ichirou before they were inevitably killed. But if Kevin hadn’t agreed to take Andrew back…

Things would be even shittier. Neil got out of the saddle and exchanged a few coins with a stable boy so that Esprit could have access to their water supply. Her coat was a bit dirty from all the traveling they did and he felt bad, but she’d already assured him in broken words that she understood how important this was for them to do. He patted her side and decided to try and find something suitable enough to be a last meal.

Neil remembered coming to this village at times long ago, helping to pick things out at the market with servants and his mother. It hadn’t changed much: a small market was set up along the stone paved streets with sellers displaying trinkets, crops and other goods. Like all other buildings Neil remembered in E’Allen, the houses were tower-like and built from dark stones and wood, fit with black roofs over the top. It was midday by now, the sun was out in a way that didn’t reflet Neil’s mood at all, and the streets were filled. He almost wished he hadn’t left his cloak behind or had lost the pointed hat Nicky had given him, wanting now more than ever for something to try and hide his face with in the hopes to just blend in with the crowd.

 _You’re fine,_ Neil told himself, shaking his head as though to knock those thoughts out of his mind. _No one here is after you. No one will recognize you. You’re fine._

There was a stand selling some fruits, so Neil found himself wandering over there. He wasn’t a fan of sweets like Andrew was, but instead prefered natural sugar from apples or peaches or any other fruits he could find in the Enchanted Forest. Just thinking of that reminded him of Andrew, and for a moment Neil wondered how he was doing. The stamina potions might’ve been enough for Kevin to get Andrew back to the lake that night, but if not they would reach it by today. Neil really wished things were different and that he’d had time to say goodbye, that he could’ve explained things, could’ve at least returned Andrew’s favorite books, could’ve…

“Of course. Boss wants the place searched high and low.”

Neil froze as he handed the coins to the fruit seller, holding more tightly to the bag of dried apple slices he’d just bought. He recognized that voice: it was the voice of someone he’d hoped to never hear from again. But what was she _doing_ here? There was just no way, could there be?

No, of course there could. Neil’s life was never easy.

“Would you stop complaining?” asked Lola Malcolm, one of Nathan Wesninski’s more loyal torturers. “We know where he is. We just need to lure him out.”

Someone else let out some choice swears loud enough to draw looks from other villagers. Neil also recognized that voice to belong to Romero, Lola’s brother. And if _he_ was here too then that meant Jackson Plank was also around. All of Nathan’s top dogs happen to be in the same village Neil made the poor choice of stopping in. Typical. “Fucking pain,” Romero growled out. “The Enchanted Forest? Must be _really_ desperate to set up shop there.”

“Who cares?” Lola continued. They were _right behind him._ “Boss wants him for the mission. We need his magic.”

“They already have enough magic-users in the Ravens,” Jackson said. “This is a waste.”

“You really think they can take on all of Ichirou’s forces alone?” Lola asked. The three shared a very short laugh. “No. And Riko doesn’t have enough power, either. He’s only _borrowing.”_

“A sorcerer _would_ help,” Romero mumbled.

Lola cackled. “You really think Junior would willingly help?” She laughed some more while Neil tried to subtly walk away. “No, we’re after his _magic._ That’s all the boss wants.”

Great, just great. The trio’s voices faded the further away Neil got from them, using all of his self control to keep from sprinting there like a dumbass and giving away his position. Maybe they hadn’t noticed him and he could slink away to Evermore, and warn Ichirou in time. They kept saying ‘boss’, which meant they had someone to answer to. Those three only ever answered to DiMaccio, Nathan Wesninki’s bodyguard and right hand man, or Nathan himself. And Nathan had died long ago in the Enchanted Forest after Mary did, which meant that DiMaccio had to be working for Riko, or something.

Honestly? Neil didn’t care. He just wanted to get the hell away as fast as he could.

He reached Esprit and apologized briefly as he got back into the saddle, directing her out of the village, back on the main path. He tried to remember every bit of the E’Allen land he could, thinking back to his earlier days when his mother had made him memorize the layout of the land and trade routes merchants took that were less common roads to travel, but faster. There was one of those routes that would lead to Evermore from this village, but it was through rocky terrain. 

But it would be faster, and that was all Neil cared about right now. So he directed Esprit towards where he thought that path was, through a long plain that would take them to the hills that were a strangely comforting sight. Esprit walked carefully around the rocks that now surrounded them on all sides, hiding Neil from view but also hiding any dangers from view. As his anxiety continued to grow the more he began to lose control of his magic. There was a tiny burning sensation in the tips of his fingers that finally alerted him to tone it down, focusing enough to take deep breaths. 

_Sorry,_ Esprit told him through some huffed breaths. _Slow. Bad rocks._

“It’s okay,” Neil responded, patting the side of her neck. “It’s fine.”

It definitely wasn’t fine, and Neil wasn’t even sure they’d make it, but they had to try.

While his horse continued to navigate the terrain, Neil raised one hand and took a look at the damage that was there. It wasn’t much, just some tiny burns to the tips of his fingers in the shapes of circle swirls and a few sharp lines. They didn’t go underneath Andrew’s fingerless gloves since Neil had stopped himself in time, but these burns would never go away. Scars left from magic never did. One time Mary had told him it was a reminder that magic was a double-edged sword, and that he should sate the magic within him but never use too much.

When Mary had died, her magic had left burns in different marks on her skin. Neil remembered thinking they looked like a thunderstorm, or maybe the whitecaps of an angry ocean. Either way Neil didn’t think that they were pretty to look at. They were just a harsh reminder that magic users weren’t any kind of god-like beings some people or races believed they were, but just mortals harnessing power too much for even them to take at times. 

Lowering his hand, Neil decided not to focus on the scars any longer. Instead he just gripped the reins tighter and paid close attention to what was going on around them, trying to listen for any movement other than them. He wished he had Kevin’s heightened abilities, because at least then he’d be able to either see or hear anyone coming after them before they arrived. For now, all he could do was trust Esprit not let them slip to their deaths and they moved.

After what felt like far too long, they finally made it out of the rocks, entering a grassy plain filled with lone pine trees and bushes. Neil couldn’t yet see the peninsula that made up the city Castle Evermore overlooked, but he knew eventually he would reach farmland that would mark the start of civilization. “Let’s go,” he urged Esprit.

She began a light canter across the field. Now in more open space the sun beat down on Neil’s back, and once again he wished he still had his cloak. Or the hat that Nicky gave him. Either would be a welcome comfort to keep him in the shade. He already had his magic to burn his skin, he didn’t need anything else helping it.

 _Maybe I_ _should _ _change the weather,_ Neil thought to himself, remembering the conversation he and Matt had what felt like eons ago. It brought a tiny smile to his face.

The cheer wouldn’t last long.

There was a small thicket of pines they began to ride through across the plain. Halfway through, while going around a corner, Esprit came to a quick stop and Neil thought his heart might, too. Coming to a stop as well was Lola, Romero, Jackson and four others. When their eyes met, Lola smirked in a cruel way, promising pain. “There you are,” she said. “Hello, Junior.”

Neil didn’t offer a response. He was too busy trying to calm himself down, to not suddenly burn himself up from the magic that wanted to lash out. Esprit shifted, starting to turn herself back the way they came.

“We’ve been looking for you for a while,” Lola continued after a few seconds. “Heard you were still holing up in the Enchanted Forest.”

“I left,” Neil blurted.

Lola tutted. “Not a smart choice.”

“I’ve done stupider.”

“You’re coming with us, Junior. Daddy wants to have a little chat with you.”

Neil almost directed Esprit to bolt right then and there, but managed to hold back for just a moment. “No,” he said as firmly as he could. “My father died in the Enchanted Forest.”

The entire party laughed. Lola tutted again. “No, Junior. He crawled out and came back home. And he’s not happy with you.” She narrowed her eyes and her voice went sinister instead of the creepy playful tone she’d kept. “Not at all.”

Neil didn’t need to hear anything else. He barely nudged Esprit’s side in his shock but she still bolted, galloping back the way they’d come. Neil heard the sounds of the henchmen following not far behind, but desperation to stay alive kept him ahead. He didn’t know how much hope he’d have if he got to any civilization, but maybe Lola and the others wouldn’t take him kicking and screaming in the middle of the streets. It wasn’t much, but it was the only plan he had.

Neil directed Esprit out of the thicket and back into the open plains, continuing towards Evermore. If the henchmen caught onto his plan they didn’t care, but they also didn’t shoot him down, like Neil had feared they might. “Keep going,” he yelled to Esprit. He reached for an arrow in his quiver and Jean Moreau’s bow, notched an arrow and aimed at the closest henchman. The first arrow he let fly missed, but the second one hit its mark, and the man fell off his horse.

There were some sounds of outrage after that. Two more henchmen got closer, one raising his own bow. Neil ducked and avoided the shot, then raised one of his own and shot the archer’s companion. He looked ahead again and saw another thicket up ahead - not great in a chase, but Neil thought a bit more to himself and decided he didn’t need to outrun Lola and her goons. He just needed to lose them.

Avoiding another arrow, Neil put away his bow and tugged the reins, directing Esprit towards the pines. “Faster,” he told his horse, glancing back at those that followed only meters away at this point. Neil grit his teeth, telling himself that he had to make it. If he didn’t the message was lost, and the others may never figure that out. 

That was a sobering thought.

Suddenly, he remembered the exigency charm he had around his neck. Neil quickly reached for it and stared down at the two vials that held a tiny lock of both his and Kevin’s hair, and the pale-gold feather kept to it as well. If he broke the charm, the others would get a very short glimpse of what was happening to him - not like a crystal ball or scrying crystal would give, maybe ten seconds time, but Neil was sure they’d get what was going on. They had to know that he might not get to Evermore at all, and if he didn’t it was up to them to finish the mission.

The vials were easy to crush in Neil’s fist. Andrew’s gloves kept the tiny shards of glass from cutting into his palm. Orange light escaped from between his fingers in lines and swirls, quickly evaporating. Neil reached for the bow again and notched an arrow, aiming for the archer still hot on his tail. Though he was still full of fear he breathed, focused, and let the arrow go. This time it connected.

By then whatever glimpse of the situation Kevin and Andrew were seeing had to be over. Neil glanced back again and saw that there were still five after him, catching up slowly but steadily. Facing forward again, Neil thought to himself more as they approached the thicket. He couldn’t defeat five enemies at once in close combat, especially not Lola, Romero or Jackson. Outrunning them seemed like an impossible feat with losing them right behind that. Nothing he had on him could help them get away any more easily.

The fact of the matter was that Neil Josten was a witch. Neil Josten focused on nature and charms and potions. Neil Josten could fight and run all he wanted, but against tougher enemies like these ones? He had no chance.

Nathaniel Wesninski had a chance. 

Neil grit his teeth and clutched the reins more tightly. He didn’t want Neil Josten to keep fighting and have to face someone who would hurt and probably kill him. He didn’t want that - he wanted to be the one to decide what Neil Josten’s story was, and how he lived his life. Let Neil Josten go back to the cottage in the Enchanted Woods and live there in peace. This wasn’t his fight. This wasn’t his past to face.

As they reached the thicket, Nathaniel said goodbye to his happiest days.

~*~

Losing Lola was going to be impossible on horseback. If Nathaniel was going to have any better a chance at getting rid of her it was to trick her within the thicket. As soon as they’d entered the pines he took one foot out of the stirrup and patted Esprit’s side. “Keep going,” he told her. “Don’t stop. Just get away.”

With that he leapt off the galloping horse, rolling once on the ground before running to the nearest bush, hiding inside. Esprit let out a loud whiny but didn’t stop moving. A moment later Lola’s party rushed by, the sounds of the horse’s hooves like thunder against the ground. Nathaniel waited and watched them go, unable to count how many had gone. It wouldn’t keep them going for long, since as soon as they saw him no longer riding they would double back to find him, but it gave him enough of a head start.

Nathaniel crawled out of the bush and began to rush back the way they came. He hadn’t gone far before he heard the sounds of pines snapping on the ground and quickly hid behind a thick tree trunk. The sounds continued, and from around some bushes came a henchman no longer on a horse. He had a mace in hand and looked around as though paranoid. Nathaniel frowned at the sight. He _should_ be afraid.

Waiting for the man to find him, Nathaniel let his magic gather in his hands. They heated up and gravitated towards the shortsword hanging from the belt around his waist, but drawing a blade would be too noisy. When the man had finally approached and noticed him, Nathaniel raised a hand towards him and let the magic go, flying into the man’s mouth. _First take their voice,_ he thought to himself, remembering words from his mother and Uncle Stuart from years before. _Next, their weapon._

Nathaniel aimed his other hand to where the henchman was still holding his mace, clearly surprised when he couldn’t make a sound. The orange light flew away from his fingertips and to the mace, making the weapon heat up. The man dropped it long before it melted away in the grass. Before Nathaniel could release another spell he was rushed, the man’s hands reaching for his neck. Raising his own, Nathaniel caught the man by his jaw. The henchman pushed on, forcing Nathaniel’s hands back until there was a short clicking noise.

The blade from the arm guards Nathaniel forgot he was wearing shot forwards, stabbing the man through his jaw into his skull. After gasping and pushing the dead man away, Nathaniel watched the blade retreat back into its sheath. “That’s handy,” he whispered to himself, mentally thanking Andrew for letting him take them for the journey. 

The sounds of horses approaching made him run, finding the nearest tree he could. He held his breath while he heard the party come to a stop, most likely observing the dead body. “Junior!” Lola called. “Come out!”

Nathaniel didn’t dare move. He listened closely and heard two sets of feet hit the ground after dismounting their horses. Trying to think and stay calm, Nathaniel closed his eyes, hoping they would give up the search. Maybe they would think he’d already run off. Anything would be welcome so long as he was alone again.

It became clear after a few moments that they weren’t going to leave. One of the men was getting closer and closer to Nathaniel’s hiding spot. If they didn’t leave soon they would catch them, so Nathaniel decided to make a decision: he was done hiding. He had enough power to take them on his own. He took a deep breath and let his magic rush through his body, orange light starting to surround his arms. The shortsword wasn’t even on his mind as he ducked around the tree, not sparing the henchman closest to him a glance as he raised his right hand, letting his magic rush towards the man and take care of him.

The only ones left were Lola, Romero, Jackson and one other henchman. Nathaniel called his magic through more than just his arms, letting it crawl up his shoulders and face so he could use it to see better. His eyes burned slightly as he focused, watching as Jackson and Romero dismounted their horses and followed the henchman already on his feet towards Nathaniel. Everything seemed to pass in slow motion as Nathaniel gathered every bit of magic he had in him, raised both hands towards the three and released.

And it all went to shit.

The magic didn’t rush out in a spell like Nathaniel wanted it to. Instead it erupted out of his arms and created a bright arch of orange light, as though he’d created a sunset with his magic. He felt the heat and burning it created, causing him to let out a scream and fall to his knees, quickly stopping the spell to prevent any further damage. The burning came from his hands, his arms, across the back of his shoulders and up his neck, until it finally came to a stop along his cheeks, right under his eyes.

Nathaniel looked down at his arms, covered by Andrew’s arm guards and his thin gray tunic. Neither could stop what his magic had done. He couldn’t see what the burns looked like but he could _feel_ them. His arms shook and he let out more whimpers, fingers hesitantly reaching up to touch where his cheeks were aching, filled with heat. He could feel the rough bumps the burns made and knew they had to look ugly and terrible.

“There, there.” Nathaniel looked up to see Lola standing before him, tutting. She knelt down and reached a hand out. Nathaniel tried to draw back but she easily grabbed his chin and leaned in, looking over his burned face as though she had any concerns. “Haven’t been practicing, have you?”

“Fuck you,” Nathaniel spat out. When he tried to draw back again she dug her thumb into the burns, causing him to let out a short cry.

“Well, let’s get you patched up,” Lola said with a smile.

Nathaniel was dragged to his feet. Jackson pulled his burned arms behind his back and bound them from wrist to elbow with ropes, tied tightly enough that he couldn’t tug free. They took his shortsword, Andrew’s knives, his bow and quiver, then dragged him to the horses. Nathaniel was forced to ride with Lola behind him, and they went back down the same road he’d come, around the village and through some farmlands. Eventually the horses came to a stop on a hill, giving Nathaniel the view of Baltimore Estate. It was a sight he’d hoped to never see again.

“This isn’t going to change anything,” he said in a defeated voice to Lola. “The kingdoms are in danger. Just let me go.”

Lola just laughed in response.

They rode through the black stone wall to reach the front entrance, where some small black buildings lined a street towards the front doors to the estate. At one point servants lived in these homes, but now the place was empty and abandoned. Weeds had grown through cracks in the road, flowers and vines had started to crawl up the walls, and a few stray squirrels ran away from the horses. It could’ve been an inspiring sight to see nature taking such a dark place, but Nathaniel could barely focus on it. All he could keep staring at were the wooden doors that led inside the estate.

Lola dismounted the horse and dragged Nathaniel down with her. Romero, Jackson and the remaining henchmen all followed as she led the way up the stairs to the front doors, one arm gripping Nathaniel’s bicep tightly. For a moment he considered dragging his feet but a different part of his mind asked what the point was. Still, a few stray tears filled Nathaniel’s eyes as they walked through the empty halls.

Baltimore Estate had been purposefully built to have winding hallways, intending to confuse intruders or those Nathan carved up. Back when he was little Nathaniel had quickly learned how to navigate, but it had been years since he’d last stepped foot in the place and now had no idea which way to turn. That would be a problem if he managed to break free by some miracle, but there was really no hope in escape anymore.

After a few hallways Nathaniel finally recognized the direction he was being taken: towards the dungeons. His mother had taken him through that way the night they escaped, but other than that Nathaniel had been down there only a few times before, when his father would force him to watch him work. The damp and cold stone used to always have a coppery tang to it that had since faded over the years, but Nathaniel still gagged at just the memories he had of the place.

After walking down the long stairwell, Nathaniel was pushed down a long hallway lined with cell doors. They passed them all to reach the end of the hallway, where a solid dark wood door was cracked open. Inside was Nathan’s workroom. The closer they got the more Nathaniel struggled until Lola’s knife pressed to his neck finally made him pause. She wouldn’t kill him because she’d have too much fun watching him be picked apart, but she’d do damage if she wanted to.

Romero jerked the door open and Nathaniel was pushed inside with Lola following close behind. The two of them were left in the room alone to wait for whatever was going to come. Surprisingly, she turned him around and undid the knots to the ropes binding his arms behind his back. The moment Lola let go Nathaniel was on the move, trying to put as much space between them as he could. Lola found a stray chair and straddled it, knife held loosely in one hand while she stared at him, a gross grin on her face. Nathaniel ended up sitting down on the damp stone with a table between them, that way if she suddenly tried to slice at him he’d have something to work with.

“What’s gonna happen?” he slowly asked, starting to shiver. The heat in the burns had faded but the pain was still there. Despite that the room was cold, so Nathaniel tucked his arms close to his chest, not bothering to hide his wince when he moved too quickly.

“You’re dead anyway,” Lola pointed out, the tip of her knife aimed towards him. “Why do you want to know?”

To be honest, Nathaniel was asking himself the same question. Why _did_ he want to know? Lola usually describes in great detail how she plans to torture someone before she finishes the job, but she wasn’t going to be the one to kill him, was she? That meant this father was here and going to do it himself. “So, where is he?” Nathaniel asked, deciding to ignore what Lola had said. “Taking a shit?”

Because if Nathaniel was going to die, he wanted to go out doing what he did best. With sass.

“He’ll be here,” Lola hummed, looking away from Nathaniel to glance at her fingernails.

After letting out a huff, Nathaniel settled down to wait. Lola wasn’t going to kill him, that he was sure of, but she wouldn’t hesitate to hurt him if she suddenly got bored. Luckily she didn’t seem to, and after over an hour of waiting the door finally opened again. In walked Nathan Wesninski, closely followed by a tall and intimidating figure dressed head to toe in black. Nathan was taller than Nathaniel and had a more muscular build but they shared the same auburn hair and blue eyes. Though he was lord of the estate he had never dressed like it, instead sticking to simple tunics and pants rather than expensive coats.

As soon as he walked in, Nathaniel leapt to his feet. Adrenaline rushed through him while he tried to think of a way to slip away, if that was even possible. He may know he was going to die but that wouldn’t stop him from fighting until the very end. Responding to his fear, his magic began to hum beneath his skin, heating up the burns it had created not long ago until Nathaniel winced and forced it away. He couldn’t rely on that here, he was more likely to burn himself to a crisp rather than escape.

“My son,” Nathan began, his voice booming with controlled rage. It made Nathaniel flinch and look around in a panic for any easy escape routes despite the fact he’d already determined that there were none. “You’re finally home.”

“Fuck you,” Nathaniel said back, but his voice cracked so any effect he’d hoped to have was instantly lost.

“I’ve waited for this,” Nathan began to mutter, slowly walking closer. For every step he took forward Nathaniel took one back, until his back hit the wall. With nowhere to go, Nathan held out one hand and was instantly passed a familiar looking axe by the man in black at his side. There was nobody else that could be but Patrick DiMaccio, Nathan’s bodyguard. “Every day I was trapped in that damn wood, I imagined what I would do when I finally got my hands on you again.”

Nathaniel gulped and couldn’t think of a reply. He glanced at DiMaccio, who was the one he’d have the most trouble with if he tried to get away. He could outrun his father or Lola or anyone else, but DiMaccio was fast as well. 

“Tell me,” Nathan spoke up, bringing Nathaniel’s focus back. “Where’s my loving wife?”

“Dead,” Nathaniel said back.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not. Do you really think she would’ve let me leave the forest?”

Nathan seemed to agree with that. “What happened to your face?”

When he reached out as though to touch, Nathaniel quickly jerked away and made a run for it. The door was still cracked open, so as long as he could slip past them all he’d have a clear shot to get away. He’d barely gone four steps before DiMaccio grabbed him by his arm, whipping his body back around to crash into the table in the room. Nathaneil let out a cry when he collided with it, managing to get his feet underneath him to stand up with a wince.

His father was back on him in an instant, crowding him up against the table with his axe under Nathaniel’s chin. “I asked you a question, boy.”

“I heard,” Nathaniel got out with a wheeze.

“Then answer it, before I get _really_ pissed off.”

Nathan was already pissed off, but Nathaniel liked keeping all his limbs, so he answered. “Magic,” he mumbled, focusing on his father’s chin because if he stared at the man in the eyes now he feared he might break down. “Too much.”

“Were you that desperate?”

For all the scenarios Nathaniel had thought of when he finally faced his father again, this was never in it. He imagined hours of torture and pain and suffering, kept locked down in the dungeons with the knowledge that nobody would find him. He wondered why Nathan didn’t just get on with it already instead of forcing a conversation. “Just let me go,” he said after a moment. His throat burned and his eyes filled with tears, but he did his best to force them back and keep them from falling. “The kingdoms, they’re gonna fall. You have to let me go.”

“So you know about that,” Nathan said, finally taking a step back. Nathaniel took a deep breath when the axe was lifted away from his throat, suddenly aware of how lightheaded he’d been getting. “I’ll humor you. You’re not running this time, Junior.” Nathan turned to face Lola. “Tie him down.”

“No,” Nathaniel whispered, watching Lola walk forward. Out of the corner of his eye he saw DiMaccio leave the room, probably to get something to torture him with. He dodged and fought off Lola’s hands when she tried to grab him, but she didn’t seem deterred. If anything, the grin on her face got wider. In the end it took both her and DiMaccio to pin him down to the table he’d been thrown at, wrists and ankles locked in cuffs he’d overlooked earlier.

Nathan walked near his head, grabbed a fistful of Nathaniel’s hair and forced them to face each other. “You’re in luck,” he said, “I can’t kill you just yet. I’d love more than anything right now to skin you, or cut you down piece by piece for days.”

Nathaniel whimpered and tried to tug away, but it was no use. He didn’t have any leverage where he was. After a moment, his father released him and turned away towards a cart DiMaccio had wheeled in. It wasn’t possible to see what was on it due to the angle it was placed, but it couldn’t be good.

“But we can’t risk that magic of yours killing you before I can,” Nathan said as he worked at the cart. Nathaniel hadn’t even _thought_ about that being a possibility. His father turned back around with a large syringe in his hands, and suddenly Nathaniel realized he had absolutely no idea what his father planned to do. Inject him with shit? Poke him with needles? Either option was terrifying, and yet…

“What’re you doing?” Nathaniel dared to ask when his father approached.

He was ignored. “Hold him down,” Nathan ordered.

Despite being shackled to the torture table, Nathaniel was further pinned when Lola held his arm in a firm grip, keeping him from jerking away when his father approached. She left Andrew’s arm guards in place, probably too impatient to unbuckle everything, and tore away the sleeve of his tunic to get at his burned skin. He didn’t look at what was happening, too afraid he’d throw up and choke himself, but he could feel it when the needle pushed into his inner forearm, through the already burned flesh. He didn’t let out a scream, instead muffling it through gritted teeth. Finally Nathan pulled away, and Lola released his arm. He slumped, feeling exhausted.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Nathan asked. Nathaniel didn’t want to look but his hair was grabbed and he was forced to, staring at the syringe that seemed to be filled up with orange liquid, or light. He couldn’t muster up the voice to ask about it since he was still choking down the scream that wanted to be released. “An alchemist created these. They pull the magic right out of you.”

Nathaniel managed to take in a deep breath, but the nausea didn’t go away. “What…?”

Nathan released his hair and flicked the glass that was apparently filled with Nathaniel’s _magic._ “They work well, don’t they?” he asked, finally turning away to put the thing down. “They have the added benefit of keeping you from dying too soon. The prince gets his magic, and I get you to stick around longer.”

“What?” Nathaniel choked out again.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve done this,” Nathan said, turning back around to give Nathaniel a front row seat to watch him pour the magic into a different vial. “How do you think Prince Riko has been doing any of this?”

“You’ve been... _stealing_ magic?” Nathaniel asked.

“It’s flawless,” Nathan said, sealing the vial. “Use it up without any repercussions, and the effects will stay. Riko had quite the time practicing those curses, but he got the hang of it.” Nathan turned away, then came back with another syringe in hand. “But now he needs more. Simple mages or magician’s magic won’t cut it for what he has in mind, Junior. He needs a sorcerer.”

Nathaniel shook his head as his father approached again, going for the other arm this time. Lola jumped up and went to hold his arm down, once again ripping at the sleeve. This time he watched as the needle got closer to his skin, trying to summon his magic to do something. Anything, really. He’d even take burning himself up at this point just to keep Riko for getting his magic, but it barely responded to his calls. “No,” he whimpered to himself, trying to tug away. “No, no, no!”

The needle didn’t touch him. The room filled with red light, as though a fire had erupted from the hallway. Nathaniel finally lost his hold on his scream and closed his eyes tightly, listening for anything. Lola lost her grip on him and suddenly he was alone, listening to loud shouting of spells being cast and his own screams.

Finally, it stopped. His throat hoarse and cheeks burning from his tears touching the burns, Nathaniel finally stopped screaming and felt all the tension leave his body. Someone was undoing the cuffs and he lashed out, hitting something and feeling just a tiny bit of magic rush from his fingertips. It burned, but he didn’t care anymore.

“Nathaniel!”

He stopped moving and focused, looking up. In front of him was Stuart Hatford with a concerned look on his face. Nathaniel suddenly realized he was sitting on the ground, probably tumbled off the table as soon as he was released, and his back was against the wall. One of Stuart’s hands was pressed against the wall, not quite caging Nathaniel in, but nearly.

“You back with me, kid?” Stuart asked quietly. When Nathaniel slowly nodded, Stuart looked away and started talking to someone else. Nathaniel slowly looked down to stare at his knees, feeling the fight and adrenaline still within him, but slowly dying down. He was still fucking terrified, but it was more managable. “Hey.” He looked up into his uncle’s eyes after a moment. “Where are you?”

“Baltimore Estate,” Nathaniel mumbled.

“What time is it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s your name?”

He wanted to reply _Neil Josten_ so badly, but choked that back. “Nathaniel Wesninski.”

“Good,” Stuart said. “Can you stand, kid?”

He felt shaky, but decided he could. After slowly nodding, Nathaniel got to his feet, leaning against the wall for support. He finally was able to see a group of people dressed head to toe in the same black Stuart was wearing, fit with masks. A majority of them held wands or staffs, each pointed towards Nathan and DiMaccio, who were kneeling on the ground. Lola was laying next to the table, eyes still open but unmoving.

“What’s happening?” Nathaniel asked.

“We have some business to finish here,” Stuart said, glancing over his shoulder towards where Nathan was kneeling. Nathaniel had a feeling he knew what his uncle was talking about. “You can’t stay here.”

“I know,” Nathaniel whispered back.

Stuart looked back at him, once again analyzing the burns on his face and sighing. “Get to the Hatford lands. We can look over your injuries there.”

Nathaniel wanted to explain the burns were a result of his magic and that he had a really important mission to complete, but he was so _tired._ The mission could wait one more day. He nodded, letting the man Stuart chose lead him out of the estate. By now it was just after sunset and the stars were out. Nobody followed Nathaniel as he started to walk away, crossing his arms as though that would give him any more warmth.

The Hatford lands were not far from Evermore, westward of Baltimore Estate. Nathaniel didn’t want to go through the trade route he’d run into Lola on, especially not at night, so he followed the main road. His mind was blank by the time he’d reached the village he’d stopped in so many hours earlier, and his body felt numb when he’d finally reached the fork in the road. Following the road to the left would take him to Evermore and the right towards the Hatford lands. Nathaniel turned right.

It was past midnight when he finally fell to his knees, unable to take a step further. Giving up wasn’t an option, especially since he’s been given a second chance to survive, but he’d been walking all night, he still had burns on his arms and face, and mentally...He was just done for now. Nathaniel almost curled up on the ground to pass out in exhaustion, but before he could he heard the footfalls of a horse coming up behind him.

He looked over his shoulder. A brown mare cautiously approached, nudging one cheek lightly with her snout. _Neil,_ Esprit said. _Up._

It hurt to smile, but Nathaniel was so relieved he didn’t care. “You’re the greatest horse in the world,” he whispered, getting up on shaky legs. It took a few tries to finally get into the saddle but he managed, slumping over once he was in place. “You’re the bestest best.”

Esprit seemed to like the praise. She started walking down the road at a fast walk, taking care not to jostle Nathaniel too much. The sky was still dark and full of stars when they reached the Hatford lands. Magic hummed all around, but Nathaniel took care not to draw any energy or use up his own. They passed a few farms before finally reaching the main house: a modest building made of dark wood and gray stone with a huge courtyard in the front. A few servants were up at that time, most likely waiting for Stuart and his company to return.

“Hi,” Nathaniel greeted the first servant that approached. “Please take my horse to the stables.”

She seemed wary, which Nathaniel didn’t blame. “Who are you to come here at this hour?”

“I’m Nathaniel. Stuart is my uncle. He’s on his way back.”

The servant’s eyes widened and she nodded, taking the reins and leading Esprit away. Another walked forward and gestured for Nathaniel to follow, leading him inside the main house. The hallways were very straightforward as opposed to Baltimore Estate’s winding ones, so Nathaniel was able to figure out the path they took to get to a comfortable bedroom. The servant said she’d call for a doctor and then left the room. Nathaniel didn’t hesitate to sit down on the bed, not bothering to strip beforehand, and fell asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.

~*~

Nathaniel woke up to the smell of smoke, but instead of it making his heart pound and jolt awake to search for a fire, he found the scent comforting. When he blinked his eyes open he found he was laying on his back and the blankets had been pulled over his body, which he registered after a few seconds had been dressed in soft white tunic and pants. His arms, neck and cheeks were covered in bandages. It was probably concerning that someone was able to change him and dress his injuries without him waking up, but that could be something to analyze some other time. Stuart sat in a chair next to the bed, smoking a short pipe.

“What time is it?” Nathaniel asked.

“Barely past dawn,” Stuart answered, eyes focused on the window. “I’d hoped you would have slept longer.”

So did Nathaniel, but he wasn’t that surprised he’d woken up now. The only reason he’d fallen asleep in the early morning was because he was so exhausted. There would be nightmares and scars to deal with for a long, long time. “What happened to…?”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence. Stuart seemed to understand. “Nathan Wesninski died a long time ago,” he assured. “And, of course, I need to clean up the mess.”

“I don’t envy you,” Nathaniel mumbled.

“No, you don’t,” Stuart agreed.

Nathaniel started to sit up, wincing at the leftover pain he felt. Stuart didn’t say anything as he did so. He decided to leave the bandages in place and took a moment to glance out the window. The sky was blue but had some leftover pink to it. Nathaniel had never been so happy to see the morning sky, especially since he hadn’t thought he would ever again.

“How long were you in Baltimore?” Stuart suddenly asked.

“Just that day,” Nathaniel said, turning to face him. “They found me by chance.” He asked himself if he could trust his uncle with the information he was meant to give Ichirou, and after a full minute of thinking decided he could. “He wanted my magic. He wanted to take it so that Prince Riko had enough power to take Evermore.”

“Take it?” Stuart asked, a deep frown on his face. He pulled the pipe away and sat up straighter. “Riko’s staging a coup?”

“I need to warn Ichirou,” Nathaniel continued. “If Riko takes E’Allen, the other kingdoms will suffer, too.”

Stuart nodded. “I need to speak to Ichirou about Baltimore, anyways. I’ll get you an audience with him.”

Nathaniel was shocked. If Stuart got him in to speak with Ichirou then he’d at least have a few minutes to explain what was going on. He slowly nodded, unable to get the words out to say thanks or anything else. Stuart seemed to understand. He got to his feet and started towards the door.

“I’ll be back soon,” he said, glancing at Nathaniel over his shoulder. “We’ll leave as soon as we can. Try to get some more sleep.”

With that, he left. Nathaniel knew better than to try and fall asleep again. If any would come, it would be filled with nightmares and phantom pain. Instead, he raised one arm and stared at it, unwrapping some of the bandages on his hand. The scars his magic had left the day before were still fresh, but seemed to have healed just slightly. He had one circular swirl left on each knuckle, followed by a sharp line that led towards his wrist. Maybe someone would find some sort of beauty or art in them, but Nathaniel was sure he’d never see them that way. They would just be a constant reminder of what could happen if he wasn’t careful enough. 

After an hour, Stuart returned with the clothes he’d been wearing before and the weapons Lola had taken. Nathaniel put them on, taking a moment to look at the black arm guards. His thoughts ended up going back to Andrew, and a heavy feeling filled his heart. He had no way of knowing if Kevin was able to get him back to the lake in time to save his life, as much as he hoped that was true. There was still certainly a chance that he may never see either of them again if Ichirou decided to get rid of him. Nathaniel took a moment to think, debating on whether or not to put the arm guards on at all, and ultimately decided he wanted a piece of his friend there with him if this was his last day alive.

He and Stuart exited the main house and went to the stables, where their horses were waiting for them. Nathaniel reached to pet Esprit along her snout, thanking her properly now for coming back for him. Then they started to travel down the road, a comfortable silence between them both.

They arrived at Evermore around midday. The city situated on the peninsula was huge, and bustling with the citizen’s daily activities. There was a constant hum of noise that kept Nathaniel on edge, looking around at market stalls and taking in the very energy of the place. The buildings here looked just like the other buildings he’d seen in E’Allen: made of dark wood and stone, tall and intimidating. He didn’t like it here, and would prefer to get out as soon as possible.

Then he remembered he could die within the next hour, which was a comforting thought.

They crossed one of the stone bridges that led to the castle. Nathaniel let Stuart do the talking to the guards on the other side, who waved them through after a moment. He stared up at the castle that looked exactly how it did when he was little: dark, spiked and scary. Some servants ran up to them as they approached the entrance to the castle, taking the reins of their horses and leading them towards the stables. They were told there to leave behind all their weapons, then they followed some guards that came to direct him and Stuart inside the castle.

“I can’t keep him from killing you,” Stuart whispered as they walked down the hallways. 

“I know,” Nathaniel whispered back.

They came to a stop before some black wooden doors, flanked on either side by more guards. They opened the doors and let the two inside, revealing a room lit with a multitude of bright colors, courtesy of the huge stained glass windows. The rest of the room was relatively bare, fit with a single red rug and huge desk near the windows. Nathaniel spotted a crystal ball on the desk, cloudy white in color, standing out from the rest of the dark room. Behind the desk stood an expensively dressed man, draped in blacks and reds and golds. King Ichirou slowly turned to face Stuart and Nathaniel, who bowed without question.

“Your Majesty,” Stuart began said as he stood up straight again. He began to talk about Baltimore, and Nathaniel ended up tuning him out, not wanting a repeat of the events. He dug his fingernails into his palm, which ended up being a poor choice with the burns there still healing.

“Nathan Wesninski is dead, then?” Ichirou asked, bringing Nathaniel back to the present moment. The young king walked around the desk towards them, hands crossed behind his back and his face was a blank slate, showing no emotion. Slowly, his eyes focused on Nathaniel. “Your name?”

It wasn’t a request. “Nathaniel Wesninski, Your Majesty,” he replied, maintaining eye contact. He should’ve waited for more direction, but he was right here. He needed to do what he came to do. “I come with a message from the Palace of Palmetto.”

Ichirou looked intrigued. “A Wesninski working for Palmetto?”

Well, no. Nathaniel took a moment to try and figure out how to explain what he wanted to say. “No, Your Majesty. While on the run from my father I used many aliases. Neil Josten was entrusted with a message given to Kevin Day, knight of Palmetto, to deliver to you. He died before he could reach Evermore.”

Ichirou nodded. “And the message?”

“Prince Andrew, who was soon to be king of Palmetto, was cursed by your brother, Prince Riko,” Nathaniel explained. “Riko intended to create unrest in Palmetto and let Lord Luther take the throne. Riko intends to overthrow you.”

If he was surprised by the news, Ichirou didn’t let it show on his face. “What proof do you have?”

“Prince Andrew told me,” Nathaniel began. “I also have my father’s word. He was working with Riko, and attempted to steal my magic so Riko could have enough power to succeed.”

The king’s eyes looked towards Stuart. “It is true, Your Majesty,” Stuart said.

He nodded and looked towards the guard in the room. “Send for Riko,” he ordered. The guard bowed and left immediately. Ichirou began to slowly pace in front of his desk. “Kevin Day was once part of the Ravens,” he said. “As I understand, you were once supposed to be as well.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Nathaniel said, more quietly and less confident than before.

“Yet neither of you have said anything about Evermore.”

“No, Your Majesty.”

Ichirou nodded again. “How do I know you won’t talk if left alive?”

Once again, Nathaniel was shocked to silence. Just the thought that Ichirou was considering keeping him alive had him reeling, and it took a moment to gather his thoughts. “A blood oath,” he proposed. “One binding by magic. We will never speak of Evermore, I swear it.”

There was some more silence. Finally, Ichirou nodded. “I want Nathaniel Wesninski dead,” he said, turning towards his desk. “Your ‘Neil Josten’ can deliver news of my brother’s death to the Princes of Palmetto.”

Nathaniel let out a breath, and a tiny smile rose on his face. He cleared his throat and nodded. “You have my word, Your Majesty.”

Just after, the guard that left on Ichirou’s orders returned. “Your Majesty,” he began, “Prince Riko has disappeared.”

Ichirou frowned. “Find him,” he ordered. “Bring his Ravens to the nest. They’re too loyal to be left alive.” After the guard bowed and left again, Ichirou turned back to Nathaniel. “Well, Neil Josten, there’s still time for you to prove your worth to me. Find Riko, bring him to me, and you and Kevin live.”

Nathaniel immediately started to nod. Just find Riko and bring him back to Evermore - it was simple, really. The easiest task Nathaniel had been given so far. He and Kevin would be able to work together, especially after they told Aaron of what they’d done and Luther could get put in prison or something and…

He thought. The Ravens. Nathaniel couldn’t forget about Jean Moreau, who he barely remembered from all those years ago. Also from the time he’d tried to shoot down Andrew and capture the group alive. But still, there had to be a reason some hesitation came to mind when it came to the man. “Your Majesty, this is quite the task for myself and Kevin,” he began. “May I request the assistance of Jean Moreau of the Ravens?”

Ichirou raised one eyebrow. “For what reason do you ask?”

“Jean holds loyalty to his king and kingdom, not Riko,” Nathaniel rambled. Honestly, he had no idea if that was true, but he was making things up as he went along. “He is also an elf, so his heightened abilities would help us track Riko more quickly.”

The king thought for some time, leaving Nathaniel in suspense. Finally, he nodded. “Very well.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Nathaniel and Stuart were led out of the castle, towards the stables. “I can’t believe that just happened,” Stuart breathed after a while.

“You and me both,” Nathaniel said back, a giddy edge to his voice. He was _alive_ , and may live for a while longer at the very least. Long enough to get back to Kevin, and by proxy to Andrew.

Forget giddy. Nathaniel felt so happy he could _fly._

“I’m returning to the Hatford lands,” Stuart announced as they reached the stables. Their horses were ready for them once they arrived, along with Jean Moreau, who was standing next to a black horse. “Stay safe,” Stuart finished.

“You too,” Nathaniel said back. He watched his uncle leave, then turned towards Jean. “I assume you know what’s going on.”

Jean slowly nodded. “We’re going after Riko. King’s orders.”

Nathaniel nodded. He walked to where his weapons were stored, rifling around until he found Jean’s bow. He handed it over. “Peace offering,” Nathaniel said with a small smile. “Allies?”

Jean took it back with a small smile of his own, then nodded and held out a hand to shake. “Allies.”

They rode out of Evermore together, heading down the path towards Palmetto. Nathaniel was thankful when the city was finally out of view. It felt like he could take a deep breath. “Where would Riko have gone?” he asked Jean.

“I don’t know,” Jean answered. “Wherever Ichirou wouldn’t find him.”

Nathaniel didn't have any ideas as to where that would be. “We should start by alerting the other kingdoms,” he suggested. “I need to tell Kevin what happened, anyways.”

Jean nodded. “So, where should we start?”

“Go to Trojian,” Nathaniel suggested. “It’s the furthest from E’Allen. And I’ve heard King Jeremy Knox is a good guy.”

“Alright.”

They rode until they reached a fork in the road. One way continued towards the mountains that bordered the E’Allen and Palmetto Kingdoms. The other continued around them, which would take Jean through Vixen before reaching Trojian. After slowing to a stop, Jean held out a hand again to shake.

“I can never thank you enough, Nath…” He trailed off. “Neil.”

Nathaniel smiled at that. “Find Riko for me. That’d be great.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jean promised, turning to start riding away.

After watching the elf ride for a bit, Nathaniel called to him to stop. Jean paused and looked back. _“Ride fast,”_ Nathaniel said, _“keep your bow strong, and don’t look back.”_

Jean looked like he was biting his cheek. He nodded after a few seconds, then turned away and rode off. Nathaniel watched him go and felt he finally made the right decision. Saving Jean felt good and worth it. The elf would do what it took to finish what Ichirou demanded of them. And if they succeeded, then maybe the king would let them live. It was something to at least fight for, in Nathaniel’s opinion.

He looked at the mountains again. On the other side was a kingdom he felt safe in. On the other side was a life worth living for. On the other side were his friends and people Nathaniel was pretty sure he could learn to trust.

On the other side was Andrew. Whether the prince was a swan or human he was a reassuring presence and good friend. There were many things the redhead adored about him, from the honks to the cuddles to the nips to his fingers. But as nice as it was to spend time with the swan, it was so much better to spend time with Andrew when he was human. From conversations to the tiny quirk to his lips to his biceps to his hair and...so much more, there were many reasons to prefer human Andrew to swan Andrew.

Like they were different in the first place. Andrew was Andrew, and he’d become someone to strive for. He’d become a home or even a _world_ to Neil Josten.

Ichirou had told Nathaniel he wanted the son of the Butcher of Baltimore Estate dead. The redhead decided he could listen to that. Not only that but he _wanted_ to. He wanted to be someone who had friends to look forward to seeing again. To be someone that had a place in the world. To be a witch in the Enchanted Woods that found a swan one day and discovered that swan was a prince. 

He wanted to go back.

Neil patted Esprit on her side. “Let’s go home,” he told her. And with that, they began to make their way to the path between the mountains that would take them back to Palmetto. And home.

**Time left until the coronation: 12 days**

**Author's Note:**

> Hi again.
> 
> Thanks for reading this fic! As always, I really appreciate that you read it and I hope that you enjoyed. This part was really hard for me to get out, mostly because I had to find time to go back and reread parts from the books to remember how some shit goes lol. I've proofread this one not as much as the others, so I hope I got every mistake. 
> 
> I also apologize that this came out much later than I'd wanted. Like I said, I had difficulties writing this part and I still think it's a bit rushed at the end. Wrapping this one up was difficult for some reason. Please let me know your thoughts in the comments below, I read them all and do my best to reply to them all as well. There's 6 more parts coming, and we'll start right off with Swandrew returning so get ready for the honks again lol. I promise I'll actually be on top of my writing this time and get the next part out much sooner.
> 
> Stay safe, wear a mask and wash your hands, my darlings! 
> 
> Come talk to me on tumblr if you'd like! @jingerhead


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